AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Finally, I take mercy and let her go in time for her to gulp air between cries of bliss.
“You’re so pretty when you come.” Soren plays with her, stroking her stomach, her tits, while she strokes him in the aftermath.
Her smile is knowing, pleased. “You guys are so good at making me come.”
“How about you get on your knees like a good girl so I can do that for you?” All three of us back off, while she rolls onto her stomach, then up onto her hands and knees for Soren to take her from behind. I get a glimpse of her glistening pussy the instant before he enters her and admire the way it pulses in the aftershocks. I’m not sure if she’s finished coming yet before he begins fucking her in deep, sure strokes.
“Greedy,” he gasps through gritted teeth. “So greedy for my cock. trying to milk me dry already.”
“Yes… Yes…” She thrusts against him, and it might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Watching her take him the way he takes her. I didn’t know there were women like her in the real world, outside of fantasies. Somebody so… enthusiastic. Eager. And she’s not afraid to ask for what she wants.
Like now, when her head swings from side to side. “Well? Did you guys suddenly lose interest?”
No. I don’t think I ever could.
4
SOREN
“Ithink I could get used to this.” I turn away from the bar, leaning against the brass rail with a bottle of beer in one hand. All around me, there are people busy celebrating a win for the Orcas earlier tonight. More than a few of the team’s regular players are gathered around us, and with them a ton of fans.
Including more than a few cute girls. Very cute.
“What, being treated like a star?”
I don’t like the grim tone in my friend’s voice. I turn to Ash, who’s sipping his beer with his back to the room. “What’s up your ass? You would think we lost tonight.”
“No, the game was great.”
“Why do you look and sound like you’re at a funeral?”
He lifts a shoulder and won’t look at me. I think that’s what takes my surprised concern and turns it into something sharper. “What’s your problem?” I ask before elbowing him in the ribs until he finally glares my way.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Then why aren’t you acting like you’re having fun? That’s the whole point, right?”
“What’s the whole point?”
“Replacing injured players, showing our stuff. Stepping up from the minors, the way we both wanted. Enjoying the fruits of our labor after a game.”
“It’s not like it’s permanent.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.” I swear, when he decides he’s going to be a whiny bitch, he really commits.
The fact is, he’s been a whiny bitch the past few days. I think I know why, and I would rather bite off my tongue than say it out loud. He’s good. He’s very good, probably too good for the minor league.
But this is a whole new world. Same game, but with the intensity turned up tenfold. It’s not exactly like we screw around on the ice or anything — it’s a game, but we don’t treat it like it’s fun.
The stakes are so much higher here. There’s less room for mistakes.
And back home, we’re big fish in a smaller pond. This pond is much larger. More like a lake. There are much bigger fish swimming around.
And he’s always taking everything too seriously. Sometimes I wonder how we get along so well, being so different. Sure, I want this to be my full-time life — if not in Seattle, then in another city. But I’m not kidding myself. I’m able to look at this as a fun experience even if it doesn’t pan out into something bigger and better.
Which is why I can’t for the life of me figure out why he would ruin a good thing by being so damn glum.
“You had a good game.”
